Because It Was True
by nyanja14
Summary: Do you know what tonight is? Oneshot. Fax and kind of fluffy, but it's all it's all in character, so not really. Not related to my other stories. Enjoy.


A/N: NO, this is not a V-Day piece. And this isn't that twoshot I promised either. This is some random plot bunny that's been quivering in my head the past few months that I suddenly got the muse to write the other night. I was going to say it till May… but I decided against that. Enjoy and please review. And sorry that I absolutely cannot write oneshots.

Because It Was True

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We'd roosted for the night in some rural area in a state full of farms. There was a really small, quiet town nearby, and since we would need to grab some supplies before we headed off in the morning, we set up camp just outside the town limits, on an incline where we could see practically every building top in the miniscule place. It felt like you were flying whenever you looked down from the hill, only without the wind and the sun.

Usually, I would've felt pretty good about the spot—close to a source of food, but with slim chances of being spotted. Plus, we were on a hill, so we could see Erasers coming from any direction. On any other night, it would've quelled my paranoia and I would've slept somewhat peacefully for once.

But then, just after we cleaned up our supper mess, I heard the music…

"Max?"

His hand on my shoulder raised me out of my reverie. I looked up at Fang standing over me, hair almost blending in flawlessly with the dark sky. "What?" I replied.

"Want me to take first watch?" he asked. He lifted his hand off my shoulder, replacing it in his windbreaker pocket. It was pretty chilly out tonight, considering that we were in May. But I supposed summer never really came this far up north.

Beyond him and me, the music continued on.

I shifted my eyes from Fang and examined the stars instead. You could see them a lot better out here, without all the lights and smog, but I could still only pick out Orion's belt and the North Star. Jeb had taught me about the constellations when we got out of School—you could see them pretty well out at our old mountain home too—but I'd forgotten it all long ago. "Nah. I'm not going to be able to sleep for a bit, anyway."

I could feel Fang's eyes scrutinizing me, picking apart my body language and analyzing it in that amazing, practically-reading-my-mind way of his. Apparently, he didn't reach any solid conclusions because he sat down next to me, and murmured, "What's the matter?" so quietly that the kids didn't have the slightest chance of hearing, even if they were awake. Maybe Iggy could, but I was pretty sure he was conked out already.

I closed my eyes and listened to the music, just barely audible in the distance and yet so close I could practically taste it.

Fang was waiting for an answer and he wasn't stupid enough to accept 'nothing' as a response. So, I said, as apathetic as possible, "It's stupid."

"It's not stupid if it's bothering you, Max."

"Who says I'm bothered?" I turned to face him, as if to prove it. The corners of his lips twitched in a grin.

"For one thing, you've said less than I have since dinner, and if that's not an indicator of trouble, nothing is." I smiled, because it was true. Fang continued, "And for another thing, it's maybe in the high fifties out here and you're not wearing your jacket."

I looked down at myself and realized he was right; I hadn't even noticed. "Oh. I forgot, I guess," I explained lamely. Fang rolled his eyes and held out my windbreaker for me.

"Where would you be if I weren't around?" Fang inquired as I slid on my jacket. It was a rhetorical question, but I answered it anyway.

"Dead, probably."

And he frowned, because it was true.

I sighed, then watched, fascinated, as my breath appeared as white ghost in front of me, before dispensing into the air. Once there, it joined the far-off music, melding in the small space between our bodies.

"So what's wrong?" Fang repeated.

I averted my gaze, and tried to explain why I couldn't explain. "It's not really a guy thing."

"Then, somehow, I'll deal with it's idiocy and femininity." Any other time, he probably would've tossed a smirk in with that statement. But he didn't—and that's when I knew he really was worried about me.

Still not quite meeting his eyes, I whispered to Fang, "Do you know what tonight is?" The music arched and twisted, teasing me.

I didn't have to look to see his furrowed brow, and I could almost hear him running through all the flock's birthdays, all major holidays, and all possible anniversaries in his mind, before finally admitting defeat. "No."

I gestured out towards the town, towards the music, and the school building it was emanating from, before facing Fang and answering my question. "Prom night."

Though his expression remained static, I knew he was confused. I elaborated, leaning my head back and greeting the moon. "And all the girls will have been planning for this night for months, and will have spent hours and hundred of dollars finding the perfect dress, the perfect outfit. And they'll have gotten their hair and their nails done and will have gone hunting for the right shoes with their friends. And they'll all have agonized over their make up and weight and general appearance and hoped for that one special guy to have asked them out. All the girls will have been looking forward to this single night for years." I brought my eyes to Fang's, trying to make him understand. "And, you know, I'll never get to do any of that."

Fang stared at me, probably horrified by my awful girly-ness. Gently, he pointed out, "Max, since when have you ever given half a rat's ass about any of that stuff?"

I closed my eyes and gave up. "Told you it was stupid."

"Max." I opened one eye to show I was listening. Fang brushed his fingers against my arm. "That's not what's bothering you, and you know it. Tell me what's really wrong."

Again, I sighed and looked to him. His eyes were dark and tired, but patient. Fang rubbed the space between my wings and waited as I tried again.

I hesitated. "It's just… there's so many things I'll never get to do. Never get to see, or know. Things none of us will do. God knows Iggy will never get his sight back, and Nudge will never have any other real friends, and Angel and Gazzy will never what it's like to not have to worry and run. And you! God, Fang, you could've done so many things."

Fang raised an eyebrow, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice. "Like what?"

I tilted my head back and returned to the stars. "I don't know. You could've been some amazing doctor or the next Leonardo Da Vinci."

"Really?"

"Definitely. You're brilliant."

The music swam through the thick, frigid air and dove downwards, weaving dreams among us.

"You know…" Fang started. I removed myself from the sky. "All that sounds great, but if I had been normal, there's a lot of things I would've never gotten to do." He glanced down at me, saw the question there in my eyes. "I never would've flown across the country on my own wings… I never would've seen a third of the places I've been too… I never would've met the flock, or you." He wrapped his arm around my shoulders, drew me close to him. We breathed together for a moment. "And I wouldn't give up what I have now for any other life."

"Really?"

"Definitely. This is all I need."

The music slowly wound down, and I heard the D.J. say something to the girls and boys gathered in the school for prom. And a new song started.

"Last song of the night," I muttered. I looked up at Fang and smiled. "Dance with me?"

He shook his head. "Don't know how."

"Neither do I."

And we both laughed because it was true. And because it didn't matter either way.

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A/N: I hold the firm belief that Fang will NEVER, under any circumstances, dance. So sorry if I disappointed you. Reviews are appreciated.


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